Here For You
by Rosebud5
Summary: Sequel to "He Is Human After All." After Joly, Courfeyrac, and Grantaire discover Enjolras's mother is very sick, their noble leader suddenly seems much more human. Naturally, Enjolras refuses to acknowledge his need for help, and attempts to remain a marble statue. However, he can't keep up this facade forever, and when it breaks, it's up to his friends to put him back together.
1. The Note

Hey all! Sooo, totally unplanned this, but here's a sequel to my latest Enjolras fic "He Is Human After All." However, if you don't want to, you don't have to read the first fic for this one to make sense... Just know that Courf, Grantaire, and Joly managed to find their way into Enjolras's rooms and discovered a note saying his mother was sick, and also discovered Enjolras asleep on his bed, where they left him so he could get the rest he needs. And that's where this story starts up.

This will a four-shot story, and so here's the first two parts. Keep an eye out for parts three and four VERY soon!

Disclaimer: I do not own Les Miz, Enjy, Courf, Joly, Grantaire, or any of our barricade boys. Alas.

~Rosey

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**Here For You**

_Sequel to "He Is Human After All"_

PART ONE: The Note

Enjolras groaned a little as he began to wake up, the light coming in from his window blinding him. He sighed a little, rolling over an burying his face in his pillow, pulling his covers up further on his shoulders. There was so much he had to do… Finish the letter to his mother, write an essay for his professor, write the speech for today's meeting…

_The meeting! _Enjolras bolted up straight in bed, his wild blond hair toppling into his face, his heart racing as it does when one wakes up from an unexpected slumber and has no idea just how many centuries they overslept. The blanket that was pulled over him fell to the floor, as did the pillow his head had been on. Wait… A pillow? And a blanket? He distinctly remembered falling asleep without a blanket or a pillow anywhere near him…

Too anxious to think on this for long, Enjolras leapt from his bed and glanced at the clock on the wall. _Five thirty-five. _

Enjolras cursed under his breath, rushing to get a shirt from his wardrobe, yanking it over his head. Thirty-five minutes late. Thirty-five minutes! He was never even two minutes late! Picking up his red coat from where it lay discarded in the middle of the floor, he pulled it on as quickly as possible and went over to his nightstand to grab his tricolor cockade.

That's when he noticed the note. Written in Joly's handwriting, laying out in plain sight. Furrowing his brows, he quickly skimmed over the words on the page.

_Julien,_

_If you are reading this thinking you need to be at the meeting, stop right now and go back to sleep. You are exhausted, and you need rest. Grantaire, Courfeyrac, and myself came by to see you before the meeting, and found you sound asleep on a book. A book, Enjolras. If that doesn't scream "I need sleep," nothing does. Don't you worry about a thing, Apollo. We can lead the meeting for one day. Rest._

_Julien, just because you're our leader does not mean you aren't human. If you ever need help of any sort at all, you have your friends. You know that. Take advantage of us every once in a while. Lean on us when you need it. And don't say you never need it. That's a complete and utter lie. Let us know when you need help, and we will be there._

_Rest, mon ami. I shall see you tomorrow._

_~Joly._

Enjolras blinked, and then sighed, laying the note aside. Well, it was very nice of them to worry about him like that. But he was fine. He always was. And he was perfectly capable of leading the meeting today, thank you.

"I really must lock my door more often," he added to himself under his breath. "They just waltz in like that, the three fools, and don't even have the courtesy to wake me up…"

But he faltered off, not having the heart to continue reprimanding his friends who obviously cared for him very much. He paused for a moment, running a hand through his hair, before putting the note back on the nightstand and heading to the door. As much as his friends' worry touched him, he simply could not justify missing a meeting. He was the leader, after all, and Patria needed him…

That was when he heard the note flutter to the ground behind him from where he hadn't gotten it positioned back fully on the table. He glanced over his shoulder at the paper lying innocently on the floor and he hesitated for a moment before going back over and putting the note on the nightstand.

Then, he pulled off his jacket and, albeit reluctantly, laid back down on his bed. Patria may need him, yes, but so did his friends. And what good would he be to them if he was as exhausted as his body was telling him he was? And he was already so late anyway… It would almost be pointless to show up at the meeting now. Sighing a little, Enjolras allowed his eyes to slip closed, and he pulled the blanket back up over his shoulders. Well, what would one afternoon of resting hurt, really? He was human, after all.

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And thus ends part one! Hope you all like it so far. If so, PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks! Stay revolutionary!

~Rosey


	2. The Meeting

Here's part two! It's a bit longer than part one... Hope it's enjoyed! Poor Enjy isn't gonna be too happy about his space being invaded... Angry!jolras to ensue!

Disclaimer: Literally nothing has changed since chapter one.

~Rosey

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PART TWO: The Meeting

"Good afternoon, Enjolras!" Combeferre greeted the revolutionary leader as he walked into the meeting the following day. "We missed you yesterday."

"Please do forgive my absence," Enjolras mumbled hastily, obviously trying to skim over the fact that he had taken a day off. "I assure you, it shall be the last time it happens."

Enjolras glanced over to the table where Joly, Grantaire, and Courfeyrac were sitting, and made brief eye contact with each of them for a moment before offering them a tiny nod, hardly given before he turned around and continued talking to Combeferre, this time about the revolution. The three at the table understood that nod completely, however. _Thank you all for your concern. But I am fine, and we will not discuss this again. _

The meeting passed in a relatively uneventful way. Enjolras gave his rousing, beautiful speech at the very start of the gathering, and not long after he dismounted from his position atop the table, the _amis _began a round of wine, highly enjoyed by everyone but Enjolras, who never touched a drop, and Joly, who also rarely drank due to the fear of various cancers he insisted came with the consumption of alcohol. And so it was, the night sped by relatively quickly and before very long, the students began dispersing, leaving in staggering twos and threes, hiccupping goodbyes to the others, heading out into the dark streets of Paris, talking about the revolution, classes, and beautiful women.

Joly, Grantaire, and Courfeyrac all stayed around, however, and soon they were the last ones there apart from Enjolras, who always stayed to the last of the meeting. The beautiful blond man glanced up and over at them from where he sat pouring over yet another speech on the table before him, and then looked back down, sighing a little. "May I help you, _mis amis_?" he asked stiffly, running a hand through his wild blond locks.

The three exchanged glances for a moment before Joly, the most sober of the trio, stepped over to Enjolras and took a seat by the noble leader. "Enjolras…" he hesitated, and seemed to think about taking one route and quickly choosing to use another. "Are you ready for the Easter holiday, then?"

Enjolras looked up at this, and arched an eyebrow. "I…I suppose so, Joly. That's not until next weekend, though…"

"I know," Joly nodded quickly. "I was just asking." He paused, hesitating again, before carrying on somewhat more reluctantly. "But…It will be nice to see you family again, won't it?"

This got more of a reaction out of Enjolras, who furrowed his brows and studied Joly with suspiciously squinted eyes. "Yes… It will be…"

"Get to take care of your mother," Grantaire suddenly piped up from behind them, his voice slurring, a hiccup punctuating his sentence. "Be _her _Apollo, eh?" he said it kindly, albeit drunkenly, and he offered his idol a little crooked smile.

Enjolras's face instantly hardened, and his blue eyes turned icy. "How do you know about my mother being ill?" he demanded coolly. He fixed each of his friends with a steely gaze. "I never mentioned a word of it..."

Courfeyrac dealt a kick to Grantaire's leg under the table before facing Enjolras, offering him an apologetic half-smile. "When we came by to see you yesterday and Joly was writing you that note, we noticed the note from her on your desk. We didn't mean to read it, we just couldn't really help it-"

"You went through my mail?" Enjolras raised his brows, the anger in his voice changing to surprise.

"We really didn't mean to, Enjolras," Joly mumbled quickly, reaching out and putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. The blond man pulled back, something resembling hurt in his eyes.

"That was a deliberate invasion of my privacy," Enjolras's voice hardened again, and he got to his feet.

"Enjolras… We're sorry," Joly mumbled, looking up imploringly at his friend.

"It won't happen again," Courfeyrac offered weakly from his position behind the beautiful blond man.

Enjolras was still for a moment before sighing, reaching for his coat and putting it on. "Well since you're obviously more interested in my personal life than the cause, I see no reason for me to stay here tonight. I'll see you all tomorrow."

And with that, he turned to go. However, no sooner did he exit the café, then did Grantaire bolt to his feet and run after Enjolras into the dark night.

"Apollo!" he called after him, stumbling down the street after the younger man, who was already several strides ahead of him. "Apollo, wait!"

Enjolras stopped in his tracks, froze for a moment, and then slowly turned around, obviously trying to keep his face controlled. "What is it, Grantaire?"

"Apollo, we're sorry about what we did," Grantaire slurred, catching up to his friend and looking the other man in his icy blue eyes. "We know it was wrong. But your mother is sick. You need our help as much as she needs yours."

"Grantaire, I'll be fine and she'll be fine. I appreciate your concern, but it's really none of your business," Enjolras said coolly.

"You need to go see her before Easter, Enjolras… It's two whole weeks away…"

"Grantaire, stop it," Enjolras snapped, his voice becoming hard. "You are drunk and you are useless. Go home."

Grantaire blinked, the words hitting him hard. "Enj…"

"Go home, Grantaire," Enjolras repeated coldly. And with that, he turned and strode away.

As the blond man continued to walk down the dark streets alone, his thoughts began racing in his head. _That was completely uncalled for, you fool… Grantaire was just concerned for you… They all were. But the way they invaded your privacy was even less called for… But you called him useless. How would you like to be called useless, you idiot? You need to get to your mother… She's sick and she needs you… They all need you… You need them… You won't admit it. You're too stupid and stubborn to admit it. You hurt Grantaire… You hurt him badly… Apologize right now…_

"Grantaire!" he spun around, hoping to be able to catch a glimpse of his best friend and be able to stop him, apologize for how rude he had been, and maybe, just maybe, admit the drunkard was right. But the other man was nowhere to be seen. And Enjolras was left alone in the cold, dark streets of Paris.

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Aww, poor Enjolras and Grantaire! I just want them to be happy together... But they're both too stupid to let that happen. ;-)

Please review? Stay revolutionary!

~Rosey


	3. The Message

Here's part three! This is where we see a little of the marble facade start to slip.. But part four (which should be up tomorrow) is where we really, truly see Enjolras's human side come through. Keep an eye out for it, _mis amis!_

Disclaimer: If I was Hugo, I'd be dead, now wouldn't I?

~Rosey

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PART THREE: The Message

Two weeks later, Easter had come and gone, and the _amis _were once again drawing to the close of another meeting, the students slowly thinning out. Enjolras, who hadn't seemed quite himself through most of the meeting, sat aside, already writing another speech, as Courfeyrac sauntered over to Grantaire, taking a seat by the drunkard.

"Hello, _mon ami,_" Courfeyrac smiled at his friend. "Did you have a good Easter?"

"It was alright," Grantaire responded from behind the bottle he was, naturally, holding to his lips. He glanced over at Enjolras, made sure the leader was out of earshot, and lowered his voice. "Thought about Apollo a lot. I hope his mother's alright."

"What he said to you a few weeks ago was very uncalled for," Joly mumbled quietly, taking a seat by the drunkard. "You're not useless, Grantaire."

"He didn't mean it," the other man said softly. He took a swig of wine, hiccupping slightly. "He was mad. And he had every right to be."

"Message for a Monsieur Enjolras?" a new, high pitched voice came from the doorway, and the remaining students in the café turned to see a young gamin standing in there, shuffling his weight from foot to foot, holding a letter in his gloved hand. "Told I could find him here?"

"That's me," Enjolras got to his feet, going to the young boy and handing him a coin. "Thank you, lad." He offered the boy a small smile, which the gamin quickly returned before tipping his hat and scurrying off into the night.

"Who's it from then, Enjolras?" Grantaire piped up from his place at the table, taking another swig of wine.

"Our servant back home," Enjolras replied, a little worry obvious in his voice. He gingerly opened the envelope, and pulled out the letter to read it by the light of the hanging lamps in the café.

The other three students in the room fell silent, watching the blond man read the note. Enjolras's face seemed confused at first, and then his features slowly melted into a look of sheer horror. Taking a stumbling step back, Enjolras sunk down into the chair he was in only moments ago, one hand going to his mouth, the other one that was holding the letter starting to shake. After another moment, his face changed to one of sorrow, and the hand holding the letter dropped to his lap, becoming limp as his eyes stared blankly forward, pain etched across his usually stoic face.

Joly, Grantaire, and Courfeyrac exchanged looks for a moment before Joly finally managed to gather the courage to step gently over to the broken looking young man. "Julien?" he whispered softly, his friend's first name slipping out by accident.

Enjolras looked slowly up, and, much to Joly's utter shock, a single tear slid down Enjolras's marble cheek*. The blond did nothing to acknowledge it, only looked hastily back down as if trying to pretend the tear wasn't even there. Reluctantly, not taking his eyes off his hurting friend, Joly reached out and gently took the letter from Enjolras's hand, feeling Grantaire and Courfeyrac coming up behind him to read the note over his shoulder.

_Monsieur Julien Enjolras,_

_I am so sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings… I'm afraid I'm writing you with some terrible news. It's my sad duty to inform you of the unfortunate passing of your mother Madame Enjolras, as of the morning after you left to return to the university. She wanted me to tell you she loves you very much, and wants you to be careful and keep fighting for your beliefs. I am so sorry, monsieur._

_Your faithful servant,_

_Molly Petit._

"E-Enjolras…" Joly faltered, looking over at his friend who still hadn't moved, the blue eyes holding several unshed tears. He was quiet for a moment before taking a deep breath, forcing his voice to be calm. "What do you want us to do?"

Enjolras looked up at them, forcing the tears out of his blue eyes and molding his face back into his stoic look, though his lower lip trembled slightly as he responded. "Keep fighting for Patria." The words were simple, but said enough. He didn't want help, and he didn't want comfort. He wanted things to be just as they were. He wanted justice for France, and he wanted freedom for the people.

The three students were still for a moment, before nodding, almost in perfect unison. Joly gently handed the letter back to Enjolras, offering him a soft look. "Of course, Julien. Always." With that, he gingerly reached over and squeezed the blond's shoulder before turning to guide the shell-shocked Grantaire and sorrowful-faced Courfeyrac out the door.

It was Courfeyrac, however, who stopped in his tracks, stood completely still for a moment, and then spun around and went to Enjolras's side, pulling the revolutionary into a tight embrace, burying his face in his friend's shoulder. Enjolras didn't pull back, but he didn't really return the hug either… He simply sat there, his face a forced mask, and allowed Courfeyrac to hold him close. Courfeyrac gently stroked down the wild blond hair, mumbling "It's going to be okay, Julien," softly into his friend's shoulder. The younger student gently hugged Enjolras a moment longer before finally pulling back, looking the blond directly in his eyes. "We are always here for you, Enjolras. You know that."

Enjolras only nodded numbly, saying nothing, struggling to keep his emotions at bay. Courfeyrac gave him one more quick hug before getting to his feet. "Take care of yourself, _mon ami. _We shall see you soon?"

The other man nodded again, but still didn't move. Biting his lip, Courfeyrac squeezed Enjolras's shoulder once before turning to follow Joly and the still-shocked Grantaire out of the Musain, each silently praying for their hurting leader.

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*Totally stole this line from the brick. Yay direct quoting about how pretty Enjy is!

Poor Enjorlas... Life is so unfair, isn't it? Keep an eye out for part four within a day or two, my friends!

Please review? Stay revolutionary!

~Rosey


	4. The Broken Statue

Hey all! Here's the fourth and final installment of this story! I hope you all like it! Please let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I. Am. Not. Hugo.

~Rosey

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PART FOUR: The Broken Statue

Grantaire wasn't drunk, but he wasn't hung-over either. He was in that horrible in between stage… The stage he hated… But he wanted to be as sober as possible before going to see Enjolras. His Apollo had discovered only hours ago that his mother had passed away, and no matter how hard he tried to keep up his stone front, Grantaire had been able to tell that behind the façade, Enjolras was hurting, and badly. Now, the drunkard was stumbling up to the fifth floor of the apartments his noble leader lived in, and began looking for room 509, which was where the revolutionary lived.

When he finally found the door, Grantaire hesitated for a moment, the same anxious feelings he got the first time he, Joly, and Courfeyrac went up to Enjolras's room a few weeks ago surfacing again. Invading Enjolras's privacy seemed so rude to do, especially after the argument from before Easter, but darn it, he was worried about his Apollo. And so, he reached out and knocked on the door.

"Apollo?" he called quietly through the door, forcing his voice not to slur. When no response came, he tried knocking again. "Apollo, are you home?" This time he thought he heard a little shuffling sound from the other side of the door, but no verbal response was given. Grantaire hesitated one more moment before he gently pushed open the door, nervously stepping into the room.

Nothing on Earth could have prepared Grantaire for the sight that greeted him. His idol…his Apollo…his leader…his Enjolras… was sitting on the edge of his bed, his face buried in his hands, and he was crying. Not just crying, though… Sobbing. So much it looked painful. His body trembled with each wracking sob, and his shimmering blond hair shook with each choked breath. The note he received in the Musain laid on the floor at his feet, and the last note from his mother was in his lap, slowly getting drenched with the tears spilling down his face. Enjolras seemed not to even notice the new visitor in the room; he only kept sobbing brokenly into his hands.

Grantaire was stunned. His marble statue was broken. And then he took a deep breath. Well. He may be broken now, but it was his duty to put him back together. And with that, he shuffled over to the bed and took a seat by the sobbing young man. "Apo- Enjolras?"

The revolutionary leader glanced up at the drunkard, his eyes red and swollen, his face flushed, some wild strands of blond hair matted to his cheeks with his tears. He swallowed thickly, and managed a trembling little "W-what are you doing h-here?"

"I… I wanted to make sure you were alright," Grantaire mumbled quietly. He hesitated for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his own handkerchief and reaching up to dab at his leader's eyes.

Enjolras pulled back, forcing his eyes to harden. "I'm f-fine," he forced his voice to steady, but it still broke at the end, giving him away.

"And I'm not a useless drunk," Grantaire muttered sarcastically, again trying to dry his friend's eyes.

At these words, Enjolras froze a little, and then his face melted slightly, more tears forming in his blue eyes. "Grantaire… I'm so s-sorry I s-said that. I d-didn't mean that…"

"Yes you did," Grantaire said softly. "You mean everything you say."

"But s-sometimes I should just k-keep my m-m-mouth s-shut," Enjolras forced a little chuckle, but his face crumpled, and he sniffed a little, putting his face back in his hands.

Grantaire hesitated for a moment before gently reaching over and pulling his noble leader into a tight embrace. He was surprised when Enjolras crumpled against him, as if he was indeed a marble statue that was suddenly turning to dust. Grantaire started slightly, but then just brought Enjolras closer to him, burying his face in the blond hair, planting a small kiss there. "It's alright, Julien. It's going to be okay." He stroked Enjolras's silky hair gently, allowing his friend to cry into his shirt. It was almost an otherworldly experience for the drunkard… Up to this point, Enjolras seemed unbreakable. And now, he seemed a small child in the bigger man's arms, sobbing uncontrollably, his tears soon soaking through the other man's shirt. And so Grantaire just held him close, allowing the Greek God to become a human.

After what seemed like an eternity, Enjolras pulled back, sniffing slightly, wiping his sleeve across his eyes, and taking a shaky breath. "S-she w-was all I h-had left," Enjolras stumbled over his words helplessly. "B-besides P-Patria."

"Hey," Grantaire put a finger under his leader's chin and lifted Enjolras's head so the blue eyes had to meet the drunkard's eyes of brown. The bigger man gently wiped away the blond's tears with his thumbs, offering him a tiny smile. "How many times do we have to tell you? You have the _amis._ You've always had us, and you always will."

Enjolras looked deeply into Grantaire's eyes for another moment before his face finally broke into a tiny, teary smile. "T-thank y-you, G-Grantaire."

"You're welcome, Julien," the other man smiled slightly, pulling him into another hug, burying his face into the blond locks. "Just never forget that, yes?"

"I won't," Enjolras promised shakily from his position in Grantaire's shoulder.

The drunkard nodded a little, and then sighed. How wrong he had been all this time… Julien Enjolras was no Apollo. He was no Greek God. He was not a marble statue. Julien Enjolras was as capable of being broken as the next person. Julien Enjolras felt lonely, and Julien Enjolras felt scared.

Julien Enjolras was human after all.

And so Grantaire just held his leader long into the night, letting him break, letting him cry.

Yes, after several months of Enjolras being his normal, stoic self once more, Grantaire began viewing him as the marble Apollo again. But he would never forget that day that he saw his idol fall, and when the revolution came and his Apollo was destined to fall again, he knew he would be there at his side once more. For that was his place. By Julien Enjolras's side. And that would never change.

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Ah, the full-circle-ish ending. Hope you all enjoyed this. Poor Enjolras... At least he has his Grantaire there to comfort him.

Please review? They mean the world!

Stay revolutionary!

~Rosey


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